


Point of No Return

by AnnieVH



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 08:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: The Jinn doesn't leave the following morning and instead makes Salim a proposition.





	Point of No Return

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana
> 
> Warning: very brief mention of suicidal thoughts.

 

“You're troubled.”

Salim, who had been lying awake in the dark for the past hour, turning thoughts over in his head, opened his eyes. The jinn seemed to be asleep beside him, the sheets kicked to the end of the bed as though he couldn't feel the cold seeping through the window. With his eyes closed, he looked like a regular man and Salim wondered whether that was his true form or a sheepskin he wore to walk among mankind.

“What did you say?” he asked in a whisper, not to disturb him. The sun hadn't even risen yet and he wasn't sure the jinn had spoken at all.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the burning eyes flickered in the dark and disappeared again behind heavy, tired lids.

“I said you're troubled,” the jinn repeated, just as quiet as before.

“How can you tell?”

“I can tell.”

Salim didn't insist. He rolled on his back and clutched the covers to his chest. The jinn might not feel the cold but Salim did and it was becoming one of the things he hated most about this country.

“I was remembering that I have to make a call,” Salim said.

“Do you need me to go?”

“What? No. No, it won't be for a couple of hours.”

“Good,” the jinn said, scooting closer. “This bed is much better than mine.”

His arm rested on top of Salim's covers and the jinn sighed into silence, apparently going back to sleep. The body he wore was convincing but, lying this close together, Salim could point to small things that didn't feel right. His body was too warm, for one thing, and if he lied still and absolutely quiet, he could hear something like the crackle of a fire.

It made him wonder if there was something else underneath his skin, so powerful he could barely contain it, and unlike anything Salim had ever seen before. He should be terrified, but he wasn't.

“What is your name?” he asked, very quietly. “You haven't told me.”

“What is it about that call that fills you with so much dread?” the jinn asked back, as if he hadn't heard him.

“I'm being stupid,” Salim told him, his voice like an apology.

But the jinn said, “I don't think you are. Tell me.”

“I am. I'm worried because I sold nothing. My brother-in-law won't like that.”

“You'll have better luck tomorrow.”

Salim shook his head to the ceiling. “No. I'm helpless at this.” Feeling a little brave, he hooked his arm under the jinn's and stroked his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind it. Inside his chest, came the warm sound of fire. “You're nice for saying this, though.” After a beat, he added, “This was nice.”

Again, Salim caught a glimpse of his eyes in the dark before they disappeared. He didn't say anything and Salim didn't push. The people of the fire were ever changing and, if the stories he'd been told as a child were true, he didn't think they held humans in very high esteem. He wouldn't have been surprised if the jinn had left already.

“What happens if you're fired?”

“Hm?” Salim asked, lost for a moment.

“I asked, what happens if you're fired?” the jinn repeated.

“They'll have to send someone else,” he explained. “And I'll have to go back to Oman.”

“I bet you miss it.”

Salim didn't answer. He did miss Oman, but not all of it. The warm weather, the food, the sound of his own language, those small things that he used to take for granted. And his sister, she was always kind to him. He didn't miss the job he used to have, though he was certain that was where he'd end up once he was back. He wasn't longing for family gatherings either, where his uncles would ask, rather aggressively, when he was going to find a good woman to be his wife. Or that tight feeling in his chest whenever he was outside and people seemed to be policing his every move – father always told him not to act so delicate, that anyone could tell unless he made more of an effort to hide it.

The jinn planted a gentle kiss on his neck. It occurred to Salim that he might miss _this_ more than he missed his life in Oman. Once he was back in Muscat, he'd probably never be as bold as to do something like this again.

The jinn spoke again, his lips brushing against his ear, “I hadn't felt believed in in a long time. So you were right.”

“About what?”

“This was nice.”

Salim gave him a smile, though the jinn couldn't see it. Even if he had to leave and this became nothing but a fond memory, he was lucky to have had this.

The light caught his attention. The jinn had opened his eyes and was looking at him. In the dark, the flames were burning bright.

“What?”

“You could stay.”

“I can't. If I'm fired-”

“You could stay, regardless.”

Salim frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I have a cab.”

“Yes?”

“You could have it.”

“I wouldn't be able to get a permit if I-”

“I have a driving permit. And a license.”

“But that's in your name-”

“That is not my name. You can take that as well.”

Salim propped himself up on his elbow, staring at the Jinn, so many questions going through his mind that he couldn't just focus on one. For a moment, the jinn was silent, waiting for his answer. When it didn't come, he said, “Have you ever wondered what happens to people who disappear? The ones that seem to have been plucked from their lives without an explanation?”

Salim didn't know what to say to that, so the jinn proceeded, “Some people, they leave their lives behind and never look back.”

It took Salim a moment to understand. “You're asking me to do the same.”

“I'm not asking, I'm offering,” the jinn corrected him. “I have an old cab. And a small apartment in Brooklyn. It's ugly and cold but it's yours if you want it.”

it was perhaps the honesty in his voice that made the whole thing so appealing. He made it sound like this madness was something trivial and within his grasp even though Salim knew better. He'd contemplated the thought of disappearing into a crowd many times before, with the same seriousness he could have considered a dream. He'd thought of far off places, people he didn't know, jobs he'd never have, and then forced himself harshly back to reality. People didn't just disappear, not really, and if they did, it wasn't because they'd run away to better things.

“But what will you do if I have your cab?” he asked, surprised that this was the first question out of his mouth. Not “I could never do this to my parents!” nor “But what about my job?”, like a sensible person would. Maybe, he realized with a stab of guilt, he didn't care about those things nearly as much as a good person should.

The jinn shrugged, eyes never leaving his. “I'll find something else. I always do.”

Salim sat up in bed and didn't look at him. The arm that had been laying across his stomach slipped away, giving him space to think.

“You're worried,” the jinn said, after a while.

“Yes.”

“About your family-”

“No, not about them,” Salim said. He'd never been anything but a source of shame to his mother and father. His brother-in-law would be happy to see the back of him, he'd never understood how Fatima could still be on speaking terms with her brother after learning what he was. And Fatima... she was going to be heartbroken and worried like a sister should but she had been the one to suggest he stayed in America in the first place. She knew Oman wasn't a safe place for a man like him. “I don't think anyone will miss me if I stay.”

The jinn started rubbing his lower back. He said, “You're afraid to trust me.”

“I'm afraid of me.”

The Jinn blinked, his eyes of fire disappearing for a second, and then he said, “Yes?”

“I'm afraid of leaving everything I know and am behind. I don't know what will be left of me if I follow you.”

The hand on his back slid around his waist and the jinn sat up in bed to hold him closer. When he started kissing his neck and shoulder, Salim didn't know if it was affection or just a way to shut him up – frankly, he didn't care.

“Don't follow me,” said the jinn. “Don't do this for me. I might not last.”

Salim leaned against him. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to feel believed in,” the jinn said, in between kisses.

“People still believe in the jinn.”

The arm around him squeezed tighter.

“Not like you, not anymore,” he said, still pressing his lips to Salim's skin, unwilling to let him go. “They believe in something that looks nothing like us. In silly cartoons. Magical lamps. And wishes.” He shuddered. “We've been _rebranded_. We're just another commodity in this country. I thought I'd been forgotten.”

Salim tried to look at him but the Jinn was holding him tight, as if afraid he might disappear into thin air. His beard was scratching the back of Salim's neck.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “I feel like I'm going to fade away.”

“I wanted to fade away,” Salim confessed. “I wanted to- how did you put it? To be _plucked_ from my life, removed from it one day and just stop existing.”

“But that is not what I'm offering.”

“Isn't it?”

“In your mind, that feels like death, doesn't it?”

Shame pierced through his thoughts, a sharp reminder of reality. Yet, the jinn continued to hold and kiss him like that meant nothing to him.

“There's no shame in it,” he said. “But I'm offering something else.”

Salim managed the tiniest smile. “I thought you didn't grant wishes.”

“I don't. Not anymore. I'm granting you an old cab and a place to live. You can use them as you see fit. They will be yours even when you no longer believe in me.”

“You feel very real to me,” Salim said, as he was pushed gently onto the mattress. “If I accept, will you be with me?”

The jinn lied on top of him. “I'll be with you for as long as you want me.”

“And can we leave in the morning?”

He could feel the jinn's heart against his chest. It seemed to be burning warmer than before.

“Anything you want, my beloved,” he said, before kissing him again.

When the sun was finally up, the jinn left first so that Salim could say his morning prayer, though he suspected that he wanted to give him a moment to reconsider without the pressure of his company.

Salim hadn't brought much to America so it didn't take him much more than a few minutes to pack. He had no idea what kind of life was awaiting him once he left the hotel, but he decided to leave the suit behind anyway. The sample case he'd been carrying up and down the city to meet clients was left on the dresser.

Then, he took his passport out of the safe and went as far as to put it in his pocket but changed his mind. This was going to be a new life. He put the passport inside the sample case as if it were a goodbye note. After not hearing from him for a couple of days, his brother-in-law would probably cancel the rest of his stay and send for the sample case. Once they saw the passport, they'd know for sure that he wasn't going to come back.

Mother was probably going to cry but he had a feeling Fatima would understand and take comfort in knowing this had been his choice.

The jinn was waiting by the cab, his eyes properly hidden behind his glasses. Upon seeing him, the tiniest smile appeared in the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all?” he asked, pointing at his travel bag. It felt lighter than when he'd first arrived in New York City.

Salim nodded, a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. “That's all.”

“Then you can take us home.”

He gave Salim the keys to the cab. When Salim stared at him, he explained, “It's your car, now.”

If there was ever a point of no return, this was it.

Salim got into the cab with the jinn and drove away without looking back.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
